Critical Afterlife
by Fiery Inkheart
Summary: Life after Death had its own meaning for him. Life before Death had its own meaning for him too. But the fact that she still breaths and lives displeases him. That's why he needs her... Dead, like him


**Disclaimer: I own zilch, nothing, nope, nadda**

**_"Damn Marathon, I'll get them, they'll regret owning it."_**

* * *

**Critical Afterlife**

_**He**__ watched,_

_**He**__ waited,_

_**He**__ wished,_

_**He**__ prayed,_

_And __**he**__ hoped._

Even the slightest of Angels can have these things right?

Even the slightest of Demons can have these things too right?

_Not in __**his**__ eyes._

**He** never knew life or death for it was a fiction to **him**, a fable created by the mind of someone who thought they saw one die and live. Life and Death is a vision. The way **he** saw it was that Life was something that people used to get on with what they desire to do, even if that means the most terrible of things, such as Rape, Murder, Sadistic things that include someone else harming another. Death was where you were still living, you only knew that you could not live the life that you once did or the life you forgot to live even though you promised yourself you would live it. Your Soul lives on. But people seem to forget that fact.

_We're all __**Immortal**_.

Especially in **his **eyes; but **he** doesn't want to believe the fact that even though **he **knows all this, **he **cannot tell no-one about it.

_Because __**he's **__Death __**himself**_.

**He** never wishes to believe this, but **he **does because it's a plague that haunts **him**. Night, Day, Dusk and Dawn are spent wondering, learning, speaking, harkening. **He's** alone and **he **doesn't like it. **He **wishes for another like **him**.

But **his **lord has left **him **because of the crimes **he** committed alive. **He** may have been a criminal but that doesn't mean **he** doesn't have feelings. **He's** lonely.

_**He's**__ tired, bored and tormented. _

It felt like, everyday, like the world had been sucked out of **him** and drained into the oblivion **his** life disappeared to. **He** tried to regain the honour that was so cruelly taken from **him**, ripped from **him**, sucked from **him**.

_Vengeance?_

_No._

No matter how enticingly addictive it sounds **he** cannot, for it would drive **him** more into the hole **he** has tried to claw out of for so long, no wonder **his** body aches.

_But __**he**__ knows it isn't this that has made __**his**__ body ache so._

_It's the knowledge that __**he**__ gained when __**he**__ became what __**he**__ is today._

_Death._

**He** gained knowledge as to what it is, how to understand it, how to live – well live while knowing your dead – with it. Even when **he** was alive **he** was quite the intelligent person with an I.Q exceeding over 160, but this knowledge was too much to cope with, it hurt **him** and when **he** tried to think of something simple **he** had to use the method that was forced upon **him** to gain the answer.

_If __**he**__ could,_

_**He'd**__ kill __**himself**__._

Because then **he** knew – from the knowledge **he** gained – those who commit suicide do not go to Hell nor Heaven, they go to Limbo, and alternate world which is in between Hell and Heaven. All who go there obviously know that in Heaven you'd be in a place where you can do no wrong. But every action has its wrong. And the same goes with Hell. Every action has its good.

_But it's forbidden to do that you see._

**Hell-Evil.**

**Heaven-Good.**

_And __**he**__ didn't like that. That's why __**he**__ is what __**he**__ is know; __**he's**__ an __**out-casted Demonic Angel**__. _

**He** never wanted to change, **he** didn't want to regain **his** honour, but **he** wanted to be the man **he** once was. For **he** knew that if **he** became **him** again, **he'd** understand things better. **He'd** see things in a better light, a better way. The way **he** was know was too much to bare with, too much to live with.

_Then it was a good thing __**he**__ was dead, wasn't it?_

_No!_

**He** didn't want to believe that, **he** wanted to believe **he** was alive and that people could see **him**, that **he** didn't have to make them see **him**. It was like a computer in **his** mind that asked:

"_Would you like this person to see you? Yes or no?" _

It did depend on whom it was **he** supposed. If it was someone who **he** did not like, or someone **he** knew from when **he** was alive that tried to have **him** put away then **he** chose no. But if it was the opposite then **he** chose yes.

_But there was __**one**__._

**Her.**

**He** never knew that **he'd** see **her** again, but when **he** did **his** none-beating heart dropped into **his** stomach, like a sack of potatoes that dropped to the ground as it cut through the gravity that was the air. **He** couldn't breathe the air because there was no reason to breathe, **he** could not breath at all if **he** wanted to, but because it was a natural thing **he** was used to so **he** chose to because at least when **he** did **he** felt the air cool **his** inner-organs that no longer worked. It still felt nice to feel the wind against **his** skin; that was something **he** was happy and proud about. A life without the air would be disturbing.

But still, when **he** saw **her he** couldn't breathe even if **he** tried, **his** throat closed up and **he** couldn't feel the air go into **his** body to cool **his** organs. So to put simply:

_**She**__ took __**his**__ breath away._

And **he** didn't like that either. **He** didn't want **her** to effect **him** like that, **he** was stronger then that right? **He** would never let a 27 year old do that to **him**... right?

_Impossible!_

"_**Nothing's impossible Timothy." **_Scoffing **he** stood from the cliff edge and looked into a puddle that had formed during last nights storm.

"_Yes it is. Loads of things are impossible, people just don't know it because they've never faced anything impossible, besides going into Space without oxygen. People don't want to believe that things can stop them, they want to be better then everyone else in their little egotistical minds, but they ignore it saying it's natural for them to feel that way when it isn't, it's typical for them to feel that way!"_

"_**Silence! You know all these things because I knew you'd be able to understand them better then other humans, that is why you were given the knowledge you were given. It's a gift Timothy, embrace it."**_

"_It's not a gift, because I didn't accept it as one, it was forced upon me like I was some little termite that needs to be tamed and controlled and taught the way of this life. I'm not supposed t be dead! I saved that __**girl**__, I SAVED __**HER**__! And this is the thanks I get! TORMENT!" _

"_**If that is how you see it then see it that way my boy, but you know it is not, in that mind of yours you know it's more then 'torment' you just deny the fact that you're special enough to carry this knowledge." **_

"_I may be 'special' but I don't want to be, I want to be normal again, I want to be __**human**__ again!"_

"_**My boy, you've discovered something that is impossible, now you know I cannot turn you back because you're not meant to."**_

"_I'm not meant to be here! __**SHE**__ IS FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!" _

"_**As you say, it's someone else's fault, not yours, live with that Timothy Scam, live with believing it's not your fault while knowing it is because you chose this life to save her."**_

"_But why did I save __**her**__?"_

"_**That's what you have to figure out my son, you do have knowledge for something, so use it to discover that something you so desire to discover."**_

"_Hey! That's gibberish again and you know I can't understand that, speak sense!" _But the voice had already gone, he knew it'd come back soon, but when that soon would be he didn't know.

What did he mean? Use the knowledge to discover the something you desire to discover? What did he desire to discover? Sure he wanted to know why he saved **her** but he didn't desire to find out, he wasn't that desperate to find out.

Right?

Right.

Wrong.

"_Ugghhhh! Why am I so tormented by the knowledge I have but I cannot use it to find the answer I want!?"_Of course, no-one answered that. Rolling his eyes he sat back down on the edge and kicked out his feet in a pattern that would make any other person think it's impossible to do such a pattern like that, but no, he was doing it and he didn't care at the moment – if someone was with him – what people thought. He was alone and he knew he'd stay this way. Unless...

_Unless __**she**__ was __**'accidentally' **__killed._

Yes, that would work out in some demented and twisted way, because if it was an accident people would not expect it to be him who had done it, people would expect it to be some natural accident that could happen to anyone.

_He liked that idea a lot._

"_I wonder if anyone would suspect a Demonic Angel to kill a Human. I doubt it. I guess being __**what**__ I am has its upsides." _Smirking so that his small fangs that only slightly over-lapped his bottom lip, he stood and flapped his right Demonic wing to make sure it wasn't stiff, and it wasn't. Then he flapped his left Angelic wing to do the same. Happy with the results he flapped them faster to gain enough wind under them that would push him into the air. Gritting his fangs and squinting his dark moron eyes tinted with sea-foam green, he pushed into the air and gained the altitude he needed to fly towards his destination.

Once he arrived at his destination he realised that **she** was not there. Perhaps **she** was out with **her** friends? Or maybe **she** had a boyfriend that **she** was out with?

_He __**seethed **__at that thought._

**She** couldn't have a boyfriend because he wanted **her**, so in terms if **she** did have one he couldn't have **her** anymore because from the moment **her** heart stops beating **she** will belong to him, **Timothy Scam**. He could not wait to show **her** how he's been living since he died for **her**, saved **her** from that dreadful incident and made it take his life instead of **her** own.

_**Why**__ did he do that?_

He didn't care for **her**... did he? No that could never be the answer because Demonic Angels don't feel emotion, it was impossible for them to do so because there heart has been busted into tiny pieces so how would it feel the emotions it would feel when it's whole and not pieces. He was confused beyond belief and he wanted answers desperately.

Sitting on the roof of **her** house he waited for **her** to return from wherever **she** was, after all, what's the show without the main character? Not something worth watching and being called an accident that's what. He so badly wanted to make **her** beg for his mercy, plead for his forgiveness. But knowing **her** with **her** strong minded ways **she'll** have t be broken if you want her to do that.

_He'd __**break her **__easily._

All he'd have to do is show **her** that he can torture **her** friends if he wished to, torture **her** close loved ones whoever they may be and that'll be enough to make **her** break and do as he wants.

It was around 10 O'clock at night when **she** returned to **her** home. But **she** was not followed, **she** was on **her** own, no-one that help **her** get away form him and his need, his desire for **her** to make **her** pay and love him. **She** walked into **her** house not even glancing at the roof even though he had allowed **her** to see him if **she** wanted to, so if **she** had of looked up, **she** would have seen – in **her** eyes – a Demonic Human that looked like a handsome god in some ways. He knew **she** thinks he's handsome, **she** just doesn't admit it.

Jumping to the ground, landing with no noise that would make **her** known of his presence, he walked through **her** front door and looked around, it was completely dark, the lights were asleep obviously. And soon, **she** would be too, except the sleep that would over come **her**, **she** would not wake from.

"I hate days like that, so hectic and tiring. I can't wait for my bed." He heard **her** voice once before like that, and it had sent thrills through his body, but he could no longer feel those chills that elected the emotion he so badly wanted to feel right at this moment. He knew that if he did feel them though he would have charged at **her** and taken **her** whether **she** liked it or not, taken **her** to be his own physically. He would love to go up to **her** and feel every inch of **her** body, but no, couldn't because he was **dead** after all. But **she** will be soon, and that would make him be able to touch **her**, for it was different, **Life **and **Death**. The meanings are always different; it was something you had to figure out so you could live by those rules.

_**Etc.**_

_Timothy could not touch his desire for __**she**__ would not feel the touch but he would because he's the one initiating the touch._

_But if __**she**__ was like him and he touched __**her**__ then __**she**__ would be able to feel it because __**she's**__ the same as him, meaning everything he'd do to __**her**__**she'd**__ be able to feel it because __**she'd**__ have the same origin as him. _

He saw **her** then, by the living room looking out into the sky, to the moon, he knew **she** was mesmerized by it because of its beauty. It was a red moon tonight, a lunar eclipse, a perfect night for an accident killing.

Smirking he slowly walked over to **her**, but when he saw **her** turn he stopped knowing **she** could see him in his new form. **She** flung herself against the window and slouched into a futile position, staring at him... **remembering** him.

"**YOU**! You died though, you can't be here, I saw you die **for** me, you **killed** yourself to **save** me, why did you do that **Tim**, WHY?!" He saw **her** fear, that's why he took a step back into the moons gaze to **she** could see him.

"_You see my dear, I may be dead but I'm still alive. I can hear, touch, smell all the things Humans do, but I'm just the little but different. I'm no longer Human. I'm a Demonic Angel, and I'm not leaving here tonight without you, my dear __**Samantha Simpson**__." _She gasped as he walked forward, eyes blazing with want and desire.

The only thing she could think of was her family, friends, W.O.O.H.P and her life... but she was thinking of something else, she just never took notice of it, because it was a sin to think such a thing.

_As he killed her by the accident he promised, she never thought she'd think such a sin of a thought._

"_**When did I love him and when did I crave his company?"**_

She never wished to think that because of two reasons.

_**1. It was true**_

_**2. It was not Human to love a beast.**_

_**But when did she ever care?**_

* * *

**Well this is the second one that I've done and I have no clue what is wrong with me. I was making this one up as I went along, which is unlike me, I must be getting used to this writing and the ideas... Odd.**

**But hey, I hope you like this one. And in this one I've actually put all thie things I believe about Life and Death, I do believe this, but I don't believe that you turn into the creature Tim is, but the other things I do believe. And the perosn that spoke to Tim wasn't God, it was like his gurdian, his voice ya know. I think when we die we all have one, but it's just someone close to us. **

**But I could be totally wrong! We all have our beliefs and this is mine. I hope you like the story though, I know I enjoyed writing it!**

**Please R&R, I love em!**

**Evily,**

**Omen**


End file.
